


Sex and Violence (Dance of the Dragons ASOIAF OC AU)

by BlackDragon98



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Civil War, Dragonriders, Dragons, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Grimdark, House Belaerys, House Targaryen, Kinky, Loss of Virginity, Original Character-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Smut, Targaryen Incest, The Dance of the Dragons | Aegon II Targaryen v. Rhaenyra Targaryen Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26166646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackDragon98/pseuds/BlackDragon98
Summary: In the Dance of the Dragons, Targaryen fought Targaryen, dragon fought dragon, and brother fought sister.Yet another rises from the ruins, one of the 40 Families of dragonriders and sorcerers long thought to have died in the Doom of Valyria.A young man rises, a dragon is tamed, and Westeros will never be the same again.Based on characters and events created by GRRM.
Relationships: Aegon II Targaryen/Helaena Targaryen, Alicent Hightower/Viserys I Targaryen (mentioned), Corlys Velaryon/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Aemon), Daemon Targaryen/Laena Targaryen (mentioned), Daemon Targaryen/Rhaenyra Targaryen, Rhaenyra Targaryen/Harwin Strong (mentioned), Rhaenyra Targaryen/Laenor Velaryon (mentioned)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 33





	1. A Fateful Choice

Valyria, Valyrian Freehold  
115 BC

Two men stood atop one of Valyria's many freestanding towers of dragonstone as they watched their dragons soar through the skies, dancing with each other.

"I guess this mean goodbye cousin." said the shorter of the 2 men, as he placed his hand on his older cousin's shoulder. The taller man laughed as clapped his younger cousin on the back.

"You make everything sound so dramatic Baelon. It's not like we're never going to see each other again!" he replied as he pull a ring off the middle finger of his left hand. "Though before you leave cousin, I do have a gift for you." He held out the ring to his cousin, handing it to him.

"Are you out of your mind Aerion? The Ring of Belaerys belongs to the Lord Freeholder of House Belaerys, not some distant cousin of a cadet branch! I cannot accept your gift." Baelon shook his head as he pushed his cousin's hand away.

"Listen to me Baelon. I know this is very strange, but I actually think the Targaryens might be right about something. I've been having disturbing dreams these past days, fire and lava engulfing all of Valyria, our entire penisula destroyed. Therefore, you must take the ring so that if anything happens to the rest of us in Valyria, House Belaerys will survive, no matter the cost."

Baelon nodded before responding, his mind spinning. Was Daenys Targaryen truly right about the so-called Doom? Would Valyria actually fall over the course of a single day? It was all too horrible to imagine, so Baelon decided to push the thought to the back of his mind.

"Well if you insist, then I have no choice but to accept cousin. If the Targaryens are right, then House Belaerys must survive no matter the cost." Baelon extended his hand as Aerion slipped the ensorcered Valyrian steel ring on Baelon's left middle finger. He nodded his cousin as the two men went back to watching their dragons, one green, one black, dance in the bright blue sky over Valyria. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy my new Dance of the Dragons fic! I'll be releasing a new chapter every couple days until I'm out of pre-written chapters.  
> Comments, questions, and compliments are always welcome!  
> -Black Dragon


	2. No Matter the Cost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dragon is tamed and Westeros is forever changed...

Dragonmont, Dragonstone Island

129 AC

A warm wind buffeted the face of a young man and whistled through his long, shoulder length platinum hair as he climbed the slopes of the Dragonmont, slowly and methodically. Step by step, rock by rock, he ascended the steep cliff face that would lead him to his prize, a massive coal-black dragon known as the Cannibal. He was the biggest wild dragon that laired on Dragonstone Island and was well known for feasting on the corpses of dead dragons, live dragon hatchlings, and unhatched dragon eggs, his behaviour earning him the grim moniker of "Cannibal". Though the black dragon inspired fear and dread in the hearts of Dragonstone's inhabitants, Targaryens included, it did not stop a number of bold dragontamers from trying and failing to subdue the murderous beast. Supposedly, the dragon's lair was lined with their bones and the bones of other creatures that the dark creature had killed and eaten over it's long life, which supposedly predates even the Targaryen arrival in 126 BC. But this did not faze the young man in the least, for he continued his arduous climb up the mountainside towards the lair of the deadly beast without any change in his pace.

With the agility a veteran sailor, developed through years of seamanship as a navigator aboard his uncle Aemar's merchant cog _Valyria_ , the young man hauled himself up one last time, collapsing on the stony ground in front of the black dragon's lair. Pausing to catch his breath, he untied the wrapped canvas under his cloak that hung diagonally across his back, unrolling the rough cloth in front of him and revealing it's macabre contents, a bloodstained flour sack containing the dismembered parts of a human being. Or more specific, a Pentoshi sailor who had unwisely decided to try and steal from the young man. With a devilish grin on his sun-tanned face, the young man took out a long metal whistle from his pocket, the metal's telltale dark ripples shining in the dying rays of twilight. Whispering a prayer to Balerion, the young man blew the Valyrian steel whistle with all his strength, producing a shrill, eerie noise that echoed around the cavernous lair opening. He sat down and waited, confident that the inhabitant of the cave would soon come out in response to the whistle.

And indeed he was right, for not a minute had passed before the young man spied a pair of menacing green eyes glaring at him from within the cave. Without hesitation, the young man took a piece of the dismembered sailor from the bloody sack and tossed it towards the cave, watching with a growing smile on his handsome face as it landed right at the mouth of the dragon's lair. Slowly, the green eyes within the cave grew larger and larger until the dragon's pitch-black snout emerged from shadows, as it sniffed the offering given by the young man. Satisfied, the black dragon roasted the offering with his flames and then gobbled it up, before retreating back into the dark shadows of his lair. The young man smiled, for he knew he had already passed the first test. The dragon had not attacked him for disturbing his slumber, which meant that the creature had sensed the dormant power within the young man's blood. After getting up and dusting his leather pants off, the young man placed the bloodstained sack back in the canvas, wrapped it up and took a candle out of his pocket. With a cruel smile on his young face, he unsheathed his Valyrian steel dagger and proceeded to cut his left thumb vertically on the side of the palm, letting the drops of crimson blood drip over the candle which he held with other four fingers of his left hand. Pausing, he recalled the sorceries that his mother had taught him years ago, forbidden rituals and dark spells that could do things which normal men considered impossible, before speaking in High Valyrian, the language of his ancestors.

"Ānogar ānograro, ivestragī se perzyssy jemagon nyke naejot ērinnon!" (Blood of my blood, let the flames lead me to victory!)

With that, the blood on candle spontaneous combusted, lighting the candle. Putting the candle down, the young man wiped off his dagger before sheathing it, and then proceeded to inspect the cut on his thumb. It had disappeared, and there wasn't even a scar left. The wound had closed and healed itself, just like the tome said it would. After wrapping the bloodstained sack up with the canvas and picking up his candle, the young man calmly strode into the dragon's lair, his boot clacking on the stony ground with every step.

As he walked inside the cave, the young man felt a sense of discomfort, as if he were walking on someone's grave. Kneeling down, he examined the many bones that lined the sides of the cave, the only mortal remains of people, animals, and dragons that the dark creature had devoured over it's lifetime. Unsurprisingly, the young man saw a couple human skulls amid the various bones that lined the cavern, the last remnants of would-be dragontamers, fools that had underestimated the power of the Cannibal. With wild grin on his face, the young Valyrian knew that he was almost finished with his quest as he arose and walked towards the center of the lair, where the great black dragon was watching him from the comfort of his nest. After unwrapping the canvas, the young man dumped all the remaining pieces of the Pentoshi sailor on the hard stone floor of the cave. The dark creature proceeded to roast and devour the rest of the offerings and then laid his head at the young man's feet, submitting to the his authority and the power that flowed within his veins, the blood of not one, but two of the 40 Families. With a light, airy laugh, the young man drew his Valyrian steel dagger once more and cut himself again, this time across his left palm instead of just the thumb. Taking his bloody hand, he knelt and placed it upon the black dragon's scaly forehead before speaking in High Valyrian once more.

"Gīmigon ñuha kustikāne, dyni hen Valyria. Hēnkirī īlon sīmonagon, hēnkirī īlon sōvegon. Daor purgzi se odre." (Know my strength, creature of the Valyria. Together we rise, together we fly. No matter the cost.) spoke the young Valyrian, in a even, forceful voice full of the strength and authority that would one day bring him fame and glory. All the while, he kept his eyes fixed upon the dragon and his bleeding hand, waiting for the ritual to begin. 

Without warning, the blood from his left palm suddenly began to boil on the dragon's scales, the dark creature responding with a low bestial growl while the young man clenched his teeth as the painful sensation of his burning hand spread through his body. Though it felt like his palm was being being roasted over an open fire, the young man kept his hand pressed firmly on the dragon's snout until all the blood had evaporated. There was a cooling sensation as the ritual finished itself by healing the incision on his palm, his skin and flesh kneading back together through the power of blood magic. With a cruel smirk, the young man proceeded to walk around the cave, candle in hand, as he if he were searching for something.

After a few minutes of searching he found what he was looking for, tucked away being a small pile of bones. Three dragon eggs sat gleaming in the darkness, their scales reflecting the light from the candle. Taking the three eggs in his hands, the young man placed them in the canvas and wrapped them up, before picking up his candle from the ground and walking out to the entrance of the cave. Turning around, the young man bid his new mount goodnight with a nod and then placed the wrapped eggs beside him. After laying his brown cloak on the ground, the young man curled up and fell asleep, waiting for the rays of a new dawn to shine upon him, his dragon, and House Belaerys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be released on 29/08/2020.  
> See y'all then!  
> Comments, questions, and compliments are always welcome!
> 
> -Black Dragon


	3. Black or Green?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A side is chosen and the Dance of the Dragons will never be the same...

Cannibal's Lair, Dragonmont, Dragonstone Island

129 AC

The young man awoke as the rays of the morning sun warmed his cold body. In order to ascend the trecherous slope, he had to forego his bedroll or even a simple blanket, in favor of the bloody offerings for his new dragon. Still a cloak was better than nothing at all. Yawning, the young man arose, rubbed his eyes and then walked back into his dragon's lair. Inside, his new mount was still sleeping and the young man decided to let him slumber for a little longer, for there was one more task that had to be resolved before they could begin their journey together. It was a difficult task, one that would ultimately decide the fate of Westeros considering Cannibal's immense size as the second largest living dragon in Westeros and probably the most dangerous due to his natural viciousness. The young man sat down beside his dragon, leaning his back against the neck of the slumbering creature as he rubbed the Cannibal's coal-black scales. He would sit like that for almost an hour as he contemplated his choices.  
  
 _Green or Black? More like which of my three remaining goals I would like to prioritize. Before I left Lys, I swore that I would claim my dragon, my bride, my fortune and my army from Westeros. Now that I have my dragon, that leaves my bride, my fortune and my army. I wonder what the Greens can offer me if I were to ally with them for Aegon II has already been anointed and crowned in King's Landing and his great rump is the one atop the Iron Throne. The Realm's Delight on the other hand, sulks on Dragonstone with her pitiful crowd of allies.  
  
If I were to join the Greens, then I would almost certainly obtain my fortune and my army after the war, given the wealth of House Hightower. Yet these troops would ultimately be loyal to their King and not me, which means they are of little utility when I return to Essos and claim my birthright. As well, Oldtown houses both the Faith and the Maesters, institutions that would most definitely hate me for my use of Valyrian sorcery, perhaps even kill me if they get the chance. A much higher chance of death just for gold;a glorified sellsword with a dragon.No, that will not do at all. I am a dragonlord and sorcerer prince, not some lowborn sellsword.  
_

_And now that I think about it, the Greens don't have any prospective brides for me either. Only an idiot girl born of the corpulent king and his plump queen, hardly an acceptable bride for a Lord Freeholder like me. Though the Greens are in control of the mightiest living dragon in Westeros, Vhagar herself, the mount of my illustrious ancestor Queen Visenya Targaryen. Two of the most powerful dragons in Westeros would make short work of the Blacks, though I would have to wait another 15 years for a prospective bride that might never be born. And probably get murdered by the Faith and the Citadel during that time.  
  
Now what about the Blacks? Despite the lack of Vhagar they still have more dragons, claimed and unclaimed, compared to the Greens. The Greens can only count four dragons, and only three of them are battle ready, Vhagar, Sunfyre, and Dreamfyre. And Dreamfyre is the dragon of the plump queen, so she will probably never be deployed in battle, leaving the Greens with only two battle ready dragons. On the other hand, the Blacks have Syrax, Meleys, Caraxes and 3 other smaller dragons ridden by the princes, though their true power lies in their five unclaimed dragons. Vermithor, Silverwing, Grey Ghost, Sheepstealer, and Seasmoke, all battle ready dragons without a rider. As well, the Blacks have the greatest fleet in Westeros, the Fleet of House Velaryon. Didn't I always want to meet Corlys Velaryon one day while_ _I was a navigator under Uncle Aemar? I do remember wanting to ask him for stories about his Nine Great Voyages as well. Seems like an alliance with the Blacks means I finally have a chance to see two of my childhood dreams come true.  
  
And the Blacks have an abundance of prospective brides compared to the Greens. The twin sisters Rhaena and Baela Targaryen, both beautiful Valyrian dragonriders, the daughters of Laena Velaryon, the Beauty of Driftmark and daughter of the Sea Snake. Once I work my magic I'll get one or even both of them falling hopelessly in love with me.And if I get them with child, then a marriage is almost certainly guaranteed. _ _Most importantly though, they're my half-sisters through my father Daemon, which only makes our love and marriage even better. There is no carnal relationship holier than one between brother and sister, said my Valyrian ancestors. Oh how they right were about that, for that is the only way to concentrate our precious bloodline and prevent it from being despoiled by lowborn filth like the Hightowers._

_Yes, that it. I'll join the Blacks and recruit my army along the way. Once the war is won, I'll have my little Valyrian dragonrider in my arms, my army at my beck and call, and my fortune in gold as payment from Queen Rhaenyra. Yes, that's what I'll do._  
  
The young man showed his teeth while he smiled, a predatory grin that stretched from ear to ear. Behind him, Cannibal slowly awoke from his slumber, his breath sending up puffs of dust in the now sunlit cave.  
  
 _Time to get my bride, forge my army, and earn my gold. Aenar Belaerys, today is a day you will never forget. Tomorrow is a day the world shall remember._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be released on 30/08/2020.  
> See y'all then!  
> Comments, questions, and compliments are always welcome!
> 
> -Black Dragon


	4. The Coming Man

Dragonmont, Dragonstone Island  
129 AC

As he held onto Cannibal for dear life, Aenar came to realized why his ancestors used a saddle when they rode their dragons instead of just going bareback. Cannibal glided down towards the bottom of Dragonmont while Aenar held onto his back spines with all his might, the wind flowing through his shoulder-length platinum hair, tied back in a ponytail for convenience. But this was not to last for much longer, for Cannibal soon reached the rocky ground of the Dragonmont's base. When the black dragon started to land, his wings threw up clouds of dusts which whirled around the monstrous creature as he his clawed feet hit ground. Cannibal quickly lowered his neck and torso, letting his rider disembark from his back. When the dust settled, Aenar could see two men standing before him, who both knelt as soon as they recognized their Lord Freeholder as the dragonrider.

"How many times do I have to tell you two that I don't want this sort of behaviour? I might be Lord Freeholder of House Belaerys but we're friends first and foremost!"exclaimed Aenar, dusting himself off after disembarking from his new mount while he waited for his friends to get up from their kneeling position.

The two men rose immediately, a wide grin on the face of the tall muscular Dothraki half-breed as the slim YiTish man stroked his long silky moustache in amusement. The Dothraki shifted his brown leather vest before gesturing at the coal-black dragon with his left hand. The black beast ignored the gesture as it curled up beside their campfire, smoke rising out of his nostrils as he dozed in the morning sun.

"Looks like the dragon liked your offering, Lord Freeholder." laughed Rhago, as he stared at the first dragon he had ever seen. "Though I do admit he was rather fat for a man who crosses the poison seas regularly." Aenar and the YiTish man chuckled at the memory of Rhago constantly regurgitating his stomach contents on their voyage from Lys. A man who could not keep his food down at sea would quickly become a thin man no matter how fat or strong he was beforehand. It was rather fortunate that their voyage from Lys had been as short as possible, thanks to both Aemar's abilities as captain and the favorable winds.

"You did a good job in cutting him up Rhago. Otherwise how would I have been able to drag his fat corpse up the mountain?" japed Aenar, as the 3 men sat down at their little campfire. Rhago took out three small goblets from a nearby bag, keeping a plain silver one for himself. He passed a platinum goblet engraved with dragons and studded with amethysts to Aenar, and a golden goblet studded with jade to Li Ming, the YiTish man. At the same time, Aenar grabbed a wineskin lying nearby and poured each of his subordinates a generous amount of wine before doing the same to his own goblet. It was a crystal clear Lysene white that shown in morning sun like liquid gold. 

"To House Belaerys and it's new dragon!" toasted Li Ming, as the three men touched cups and drank. Cannibal roared in response to the toast and the three men laughed at the dragon stared at their shining goblets with unreadable green eyes."He's jealous that we have something to drink and he does not!" japed Li Ming as the dragon puffed out a small cloud of smoke from his nostrils before going to back to sleep. Yet the laughter was as brief as the wine, for the three men quickly grew serious as they contemplated their situation.

"So how has the war been going for the Blacks?" questioned Aenar, right before he drank the last of his wine. "At from what you have heard, for the tides of war maybe shifting as we speak about them."

"Very well, Lord Freeholder. Troops under the command of Prince Daemon have taken Stone Hedge from the Brackens, who have now defected over to Queen Rhaenyra." replied Li Chu. "Though I've also heard rumors of a massive Green army marching towards Harrenhal, some 50,000 men in all. I personally believe that those 50,000 are only composed of Hightower men or other Green allies, because the army would far bigger if House Tyrell were to join the Greens."

"Interesting... So it seems that Blacks hold the Riverlands and the Houses of the Blackwater, while the Greens only have the Reach. What of the North, Stormlands, Westerlands, Crownlands, and Dorne? I would assume that Dorne has already declared for the Greens, seeing how they hate the Rogue Prince for his rule in the Stepstones."

"Surprisingly, the Dornish have declared for no one, Lord Freeholder. I don't think they want to get tangled up with the Targaryens, not after Morion's Madness. The Stormlands will probably declare for the Blacks along with the Crownlands, for the Realm's Delight is well loved in those regions. As for the Westerlands, I think they would probably support the Greens due to their proximity to the Reach, but I have no idea who the North will support. It seems that their best choice would be to sit out most of the war and then declare for the winning side once it becomes clear. Though their need for additional food during the harsh winters here might lead to them joining the Greens, for the Reach produces more food than it can eat."

"So what do you think of my decision to join the Blacks, Li Ming?" asked the young dragonlord, as he fished an apple out of a bag on his left, munching down on the juicy fruit as he listened to his YiTish advisor.

"I think it's a risky choice, Lord Freeholder. The Blacks will be at a disadvantage in terms of manpower against the Greens, who also have King's Landing under their control. But once you factor in the dragons, it's hard to say who is better than the other. I still think that we should head to Crackclaw Point and hid there for some time, watch the war unfold for a bit and then pick a side." advised Li Ming, ever cautious of getting involved in another war lest it should end like the last one. "Remember, dragons can burn armies, destroy castles, and despoil lands, but they cannot hold land. As soon as the dragon flies away, the enemy can come back and reoccupy that land, as long as they still have troops. Just a final word of advice, Lord Freeholder." Aenar nodded before turning to Rhago and asking the same question.

"Support the Blacks, Lord Freeholder. They have the mighty Rogue Prince to lead their soldiers and their army of floating horses* to block off the Bay. What use is an army if they are all cowards? With your dragon the tides of war will certainly favor the Blacks, for it will send all the puny men in iron suits running back to their stone houses*." commented Rhago, as he put away the three goblets in the bag so they could be washed once the opportunity presented itself.

"Well, looks like we're siding with the Blacks then." announced Aenar, after a few moments of consideration. "Head into the fishing village and wait for me there. I'll send a messenger down once I've concluded negotiations. The two men nodded before they started gathering their bags and possessions. Aenar grabbed a small chest and lugged it off to the shade of a tree. A few minutes later, everything was ready. Aenar had changed into his dragonriding leathers, a fine black leather jacket and pair of stylish black leather trousers over his linen undershirt and smallclothes, topped off with a pair of elegant black riding boots made of sharkskin. Over the leathers he wore a muscle cuirass, in addition to the large pauldrons in the shape of dragon heads on his shoulders, and a skirt of steel studded leather strips that extended from the bottom of the cuirass, reaching just above his knees. His lower legs were protected by greaves and his hands and forearms by gauntlet and vambrace. All of the steel that he wore were night black with no additional decorations, for their elegance lay in their simplicity and functionality. His outfit was completed by a purple cloak hung down from his shoulders, ending right at his ankles. The armor was very Valyrian in appearance, similar to what his ancestors wore when they rode their dragons into battle all those centuries ago. 

"How do I look?" asked Aenar as he slipped his steel longsword and Valyrian steel dagger into their respective sheaths on his sword belt. 

"Like a Lord Freeholder," replied Li Ming, as he and Rhago finished rolling up their bedrolls. Aenar chuckled as he put on his black steel helmet and tied the leather strap below his chin. Pulling the long black horsehair crest that ran down the helmet out from under his cloak, he arranged it so that it felt straight and organized. Everything was ready. Now the only thing that remained was the renewal of the Blood Pact. 

"I'll be heading out now. Wish me luck!" called Aenar as he mounted Cannibal and grabbed hold of two neck spines, gripping them tightly with his armored fists. With a might roar the great black dragon propelled himself into the air, wings flapping as he rose above the ground. Aenar waved to his two subordinates as he flew south towards Dragonstone, watching as their tiny figures waved back. Dead ahead lay the fortress of Dragonstone, and Aenar commanded his dragon to dive in High Valyrian. Obedient to his order, the creature descended slowly, gliding down towards the courtyard of the castle as he passed over a curtain wall. Peering down, Aenar could see figures scrambling to and fro, probably House Targaryen men-at-arms readying their weapons at the massive black dragon that was descending straight into the courtyard. Once he was close enough, Cannibal began to make a wide turn around the courtyard, slowing himself down as he prepared to land. Flapping his wings back and forth to keep himself stationary, the mighty creature landed right in the center of the courtyard with a resounding thump while Aenar surveyed the situation on the ground.

There were House Targaryen guards everywhere, armed with sword, spear and crossbow. But they held their fire as Aenar dismounted his dragon, their eyes betraying their awe at seeing the man who tamed Cannibal, the most savage of the wild dragons at Dragonstone. The captain of the guards walked up to the young dragonlord with his sword drawn and shield raised. Aenar could hear shouting and screaming all around him, probably just servants and smallfolk running away from the Cannibal in a panic.

"Who are you and what business do you have with House Targaryen?" the guard captain demanded nervously, ever watchful of the powerful black dragon behind the young man. Crossing his arms, Aenar smiled from underneath his helmet as he waited for everyone in the courtyard to turn their attention to him. Gradually, noise died down as Aenar looked around, seeing the eyes of everyone in the courtyard focused on him. No doubt people upon on the battlements and in the towers were also watching him, just like how the crowds would all stare at a magister in Lys before he spoke.

 _It's now or never, Aenar. For victory we fight, no matter the cost._ The young man took a breath before he spoke the words that would change the course of history.

"I am Lord Freeholder Aenar of House Belaerys and I request a private audience with Queen Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, the rightful Queen of Westeros!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy my new Dance of the Dragons fic! I'll be releasing the next chapter in a few days.  
> BTW Aenar's helmet is a Spartan helmet and his armor is similar to the kind worn by Roman officers, because Valyria was partially based on Rome.  
> *That's Rhago's Dothraki heritage kicking in. I based it off Khal Drogo's speech in the GOT TV show.  
> Comments, questions, and compliments are always welcome!  
> -Black Dragon
> 
> Update: I've got a new chapter in the works, where Aenar meets Rhaenyra and then the Dance goes nuclear.


	5. Belaerys Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An armored dragonlord arrives at Dragonstone Castle on the back of a vicious black dragon and the Dance of Dragons is forever changed.

Aenar studied the Targaryen guards that had surrounded Cannibal and himself whilst they nervously leveled their spears and swords at him, not knowing which of the two to fear more, the dragon that devoured it's own kind and all who tried to tame it or the man who had successfully tamed the malevolent black beast. Aenar could see the fear in their eyes, even from under their helms and half-helms. It was just too obvious, their wide panic-stricken eyes and rapid breathing. Out of the corner of his eye, Aenar spied a single guard running into the great hall to inform the queen of his arrival. The structure was made of dragonstone like the rest of the fortress but carved in the shape of a huge dragon lying on its belly, with it's heavy red doors set in the stone dragon's cavernous maw.

_Run and tell the Realm's Delight and her court of my arrival, little peasant. Tell them that House Belaerys survived the Doom and now roars with the strength of a thousand dragons once more.  
_

Time seemed to slow as Aenar basked in his glory, the whole fortress's attention fixated on him alone. It would have been perfect if it weren't for a tiny interruption, a voice erupting from behind that snapped him out of his daydream. The young dragonrider turned around to find the source of the disruption, and found himself looking at a young girl. She was short, slim, and beautiful, with fine Valyrian features only found in those with dragonblood. Her long silver-white hair was in a simple braid which ran down her perky little bosom and she wore black riding leathers, holding a riding crop in her right hand. A groom stood behind her, taking care of the horse she had dismounted after rushing back to see his glorious landing in the courtyard. Aenar regarded her curiously for a minute, the girl doing the same. She was obviously a member of House Targaryen or House Velaryon, though he was unsure which one it was. Thus he stood quietly while observing her behavior, a vital clue to her identity. 

"Who are you?" she asked, whilst examining Aenar and his odd appearance. Valyrian style armor had gone extinct since the Doom, archaic artifacts from a lost civilization that were only found in the illustrations of Valyrian books and tomes. Judging by her bold manner, Aenar deduced that the girl standing before him was his half-sister Baela Targaryen, daughter of Laena Velaryon and Daemon Targaryen. 

"I am Lord Freeholder Aenar of House Belaerys, First of my Name. It is an honor to meet you, Princess Baela of House Targaryen." Aenar bowed with a flourish whilst he observing her wide-eyed expression from under his helmet. On the other hand, Baela was somewhat shocked not because of his identity but that a complete stranger had not mistaken her for Rhaena while the servants on Dragonstone would sometimes mistake her for Rhaena and the other way around, even after so many years. And that was when the twin sisters weren't deliberately trying to trick them.

"How were you able to tell that I wasn't my sister?" she asked, growing more and more interested in the mysterious armored dragonrider that had descended on the courtyard upon Cannibal mere minutes after she had decided to take her horse Lightning for a ride.

Aenar chuckled as he turned his gaze over to a girl that stood in the archway of another tower, looking around worriedly until she spotted Baela. She was short and slender, much like Baela herself, with the same silver-white hair, though she wore a purple dress instead of black riding leathers. She stared at him with a look of shock, their eyes locked on each others until Aenar winked at her, before turning his attention back to the Targaryen princess that stood before him.

"It is known even in my faraway homeland of Lys that the marriage of the Rogue Prince and the Beauty of Driftmark produced two beautiful girls, Princess Baela. One is said to be the feminine reflection of her father, wild and fearless like Vhagar, the Goddess of War. The other is a reflection of their mother for what I hear, lissome and lovely like Meraxes, the Goddess of Beauty. Besides, this isn't my first time here on Dragonstone, Princess." he paused as he took off his left gauntlet and knelt, kissing her outstretched hand, the feeling of her smooth, tanned skin upon his lips. Baela gave him a seductive smile as he arose, her violet eyes glittering with curiosity and a good amount of lust.

"Though I do admit this is the first time I've been greeted by a Valyrian goddess." chuckled Aenar, sliding the gauntlet back on his left hand. He deliberately turned his hand so that Baela could see the sunlight reflecting off his Valyrian steel ring before it was concealed once more by his steel fist. She lifted an eyebrow, opening her mouth to ask a question, but before she could speak the Valyrian girl in the purple dress hurried over to her side.

"Baela, I've been looking all over the castle for you! Where were you this morning?" Rhaena threw herself into Baela's arms as the siblings embraced each other, while Aenar stood their watching, comparing the two girls to see which would be more preferable as his future bride and wife.

"Just another ride on Lightning, sister. Nothing to worry about." Rhaena smiled at her sister as they broke apart from their embrace, a curious expression on her face as she looked at Aenar.

"Aren't you going to introduce me your new friend, sister?" Rhaena was intrigued by the armored dragonrider that stood before her, even more so because of the dragon he rode, the infamous black beast responsible for the deaths of so many hatchlings. Cannibal turned his attention to the new arrival but with a simple flick of Aenar's left hand, he returned to his afternoon nap in warm sun. Rhaena gasped as this display of power, watching the most dangerous dragon in the world yield to his rider's beck and call. Rhaena simultaneously realized that the mysterious dragonrider was dressed exactly like one of the Valyrian dragonlords of old from an ancient Valyrian tome that she had read recently last night; a living image of Valyria's glory and power. Yet he was just another living person, standing right before her. Baela noticed her sister's admiring gaze and rolled her eyes before making the necessary introductions.

"Lord Freeholder Belaerys, this is my sister, Lady Rhaena of House Targaryen. Rhaena, this is Lord Freeholder Aenar of House Belaerys." Rhaena extended her right hand and Aenar knelt to kiss her proffered hand. Her skin was pale and smooth, softer than the finest silks of Yi Ti. Even more alluring was her scent, an enchanting aura with hints of lavender and lemon. It was simply bewitching and Aenar felt himself become drawn to the young Valyrian girl that stood before him.

_This one shall be my bride then, for she is young, soft, and lovely, all the things I could want in a wife and more. If her hand is any indication, then the rest of her body must rival that of a Valyrian goddess._

Aenar mused as he stood up, thoughts of him and Rhaena together swirling through his mind as a sly, seductive smile made it's way across his face.

_And she will only become grow lovelier and more beautiful in the months to come, until she becomes a woman grown. By then she will have become a living goddess, a true example of what it means to be Valyrian. What's even better is that she's my half sister through my father. Through her, House Belaerys will thrive and grow until we become what we were truly meant to be, the rulers of Essos._

"Um, Lord Freeholder Belaerys, do you mind answering a question for me?" asked Rhaena, thrusting Aenar out of his daydream and back into reality.

"Why of course, my Lady. I would love to answer any question you have in mind." he replied, raising his left eyebrow in a quizzical expression. Rhaena smiled at him in return, a shy smile befitting a lovely maiden such as herself.

"How were you able to tame Cannibal, Lord Freeholder? As far as I know, every previous attempt to tame him has ended in horror, the dragontamer cooked alive and devoured. But you my lord, stand before me unblemished and unwounded, with Cannibal at your beck and call." questioned Rhaena, watching Cannibal snooze in the afternoon sun as if were the most natural thing in the world for him.

"That my lady, is a family secret of House Belaerys. By the laws of my ancestor Lady Freeholder Jaenara Belaerys, only a member of House Belaerys may be told the secrets which I employed in the taming of my dragon." replied the young dragonrider, as Cannibal slid his snout below Aenar's left arm. Rubbing his dragon's black scaled snout affectionately, the Lord Freeholder gave Rhaena no answer but a sympathetic look. Rhaena pouted slightly, her eyes begging for Aenar to tell her how he tamed the vicious beast that had devoured all before him.

"An oath is an oath, Lady Rhaena, especially if it is sworn on the Ring of Belaerys. Though I do believe that the laws do extend to those who marry into House Belaerys as well." Rhaena stared at him in surprise as soon as she heard him mention the Ring of Belaerys, the legendary ensorcered Valyrian steel ring worn by all Lord or Lady Freeholders of House Belaerys since it's birth.

"Wasn't the Ring lost in the Doom, my lord?"

"No my lady, the Ring was not lost in the Doom as many thought. In fact, I have the Ring with me right now." Aenar took off the gauntlet on his left hand, revealing the Valyrian steel ring on his middle finger. It was a tall thin cylindrical ring made entirely of Valyrian steel, with the word "Belaerys" engraved in stylized Valyrian glyphs along the outer surface of the ring.

"Would you care to feel it, my lady?" he asked, extending his left hand towards her. Rhaena shrank back in fear upon seeing, for there were legends about the Ring and what it did to those without the blood of House Belaerys who tried to wear it.

"Ar-Are the legends about the Ring true then? Will it kill someone if they touch it?" She peered at the Valyrian steel ring carefully, as it shone in the afternoon sun. 

"Only partially. The Ring will only kill an individual not of House Belaerys who tries to put it on. Touching it while it is worn by a member of House Belaerys will result in no harm. Here, try it." Rhaena reached out cautiously with the index finger on her right hand, still hesitant to touch the ring. Unfortunately for her, her sister Baela beat her to it, resting her right palm over Aenar's outstretched hand. Her palm touched the Ring and even after a few moments, nothing happened. Absolutely nothing happened to Baela, who started to chuckle at her sister.

"See sis? Nothing to be afraid of here." teased Baela, withdrawing her hand to give her twin sister a turn. Rhaena did the same thing as her sister, though the Ring responded differently. As she placed her hand atop the Ring she felt a slight tingling sensation travel through her hand and to her neck, though she did not show any indication on her face. Rhaena's eyes betrayed her though, for Aenar observed a subtle, almost invisible change in her dreamy violet eyes.

_The Ring has spoken then. She is the One.  
_

Just then, a hush fell over the courtyard as a plump, well dressed woman strode out of the Great Hall with her court in tow. She dressed richly, in maroon velvet and silver Myrish lace, the pearls, diamonds, and rubies on her bodice shining in the afternoon sun. A simple golden band inlaid with seven different types of gemstones crowned her braids, as she walked towards Aenar with a curious expression on her face. Cannibal stared at the lady with narrowed eyes, jade slits full of suspicion. Aenar put his gauntlet back on and waved his dragon off with a simple gesture, the black beast obediently resuming it's afternoon nap. 

The servants and guards knelt respectfully while Baela and Rhaena curtsied and drew back respectfully, their stepmother acknowledging their presence with a smile and a nod. Aenar did not kneel, but removed his battlehelm, grasping the edge as he held it upright in his left arm. With his usual grace, the armored dragonrider bowed, though he excluded the flourish so the act would remain as formal as possible.

"You stand in the presence of Rhaenyra of the House Targaryen, First of her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Lady Regnant of the Seven Kingdoms, Lady of Dragonstone." announced the herald, before withdrawing into her entourage once more.

Aenar bowed in response with his signature flourish, though he did not kneel. His action was received by gasps of shock and surprised faces, for the whole of Dragonstone knew how wrathful the Black Queen was when angered. Yet the Queen was not angered but studied the mysterious dragonrider, who took off his horsehair-crested Valyrian helm and held it under his right arm. A ripples of gasps and sighs ran through the assembled, for the dragonrider was an inhumanly handsome young man of pure Valyrian heritage, his brilliant purple eyes flashing in the afternoon sun. Aenar loosened his bun with his free hand, letting his platinum hair fall to his shoulders as he studied the Black Queen. The sight that greet him was less than expected and Aenar could not reconcile the portrait of a young beautiful Valyrian queen that the singers of Lys painted with the plump, matronly woman that stood before him. Motherhood had not treated the Realm's Delight very well, at least not her figure. Regardless, she was still Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, a position that extruded power and demanded respect.

"It is an honor to meet you, your Grace. I am Lord Freeholder Aenar of House Belaerys, First of my Name and I have come to you with a proposition." he announced, filling those in the courtyard with shock and awe as they realized what his title meant. House Targaryen was not the only family out of the 40 to survive the destruction of Valyria. From the ashes of the Doom emerged House Belaerys and all of the Known World would hold it's breath, for the future was to be great and terrible in equal parts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I must apologize for the long delay in between chapters, for university has been eating away at my spare time.  
> Regardless, here is the long awaited Chapter 5.  
> Chapter 6 will arrive some time in this month, if all goes well. 
> 
> -Black Dragon  
> P.S. Comments and questions are always welcome. This is the fuel that keeps my fingers typing;)


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